Frank frowned. "Not really. I think I've heard of it."
"Well," David replied, "I'm not even sure that it's a formal theory, though it should be. Basically, the theory is that there occur 'windows of opportunity' in the development of a species, which determine the course of its development. And we're in one now. Right now man is confined to this one planet. A single planetary catastrophe could wipe out the human race."
"Like the dinosaurs."
David nodded excitedly. "Exactly like the dinosaurs. But if we can spread out into space, colonize other planets, our species could survive even if life on Earth was destroyed. But that's only a condition, not the theory. The theory is that there is a window of opportunity during which mankind will be able to escape the confines of earth, and begin to spread into the cosmos. That window opened in 1957, when the Soviets launched Sputnik. It will close when the earth can no longer afford to provide the resources necessary to sustain a drive into space." He shrugged. "Or when mankind gives up the dream. Estimates differ, of course, but given the pace of reductions in spending on space programs, I'd be surprised if the window didn't close before the end of the century. In other words, if we don't do it in the 21st century, someday our last umpty-hundred generation descendant will starve to death on a depleted planet, and mankind will cease to exist. From what I'm seeing, I'm afraid we'll lose that window. But I think we can change that."
David took his tablet from its case and turned it on. He scooched his chair around until it was alongside Frank's, so they could both see the screen.
"In about three years," David began, "A comet called 'Carter IV' will approach the earth on its trip around the sun. Now, we know a lot about that comet. We even landed a robot probe on it. With your contacts and resources, I'm sure you can get the complete report of what it learned. For my purposes, it was enough to know that it consists mostly of water ice. That's important because water ice can provide both oxygen to breathe, and hydrogen for fuel."
Frank was looking puzzled. "Don't tell me you're planning to capture a comet! As you said, it is mostly water ice. It'd be much easier and cheaper to bring down the icebergs."
David shook his head. "I don't want to capture the comet. As you've mentioned, it doesn't have anything we need that badly. No, I want to hitch a ride on it."
His fingers flew on the tablet's screen as he displayed a series of drawings. "See, sir, when the comet approaches earth on its inbound track, we launch a ship, say a shuttle, to rendezvous with it. We attach ourselves to the side away from the sun, and dig in, tunnel into the ice. Carter IV is over 3 kilometers long. Maybe we could run the nose of the ship into a tunnel that we could pressurize, but at any rate, we attach ourselves to the comet and dig in. We also attach some rocket motors we brought along so we can modify the comet's orbit later. Then we wait until the comet passes perihelion and starts back out. Now, we know that its orbit terminates in the asteroid belt. It'll take over a year to get out there, but that's better than the years it would take in a shuttle.
"We can spend those months examining asteroids so we can pick out a good one. When we select one, we use the rockets to alter the comet's orbit to take us to it. Maybe we crash it into the asteroid to get it started headed toward Earth." He shrugged. "I don't know, that's technical details that can be worked out later."
Frank looked skeptical. "So you want me to start my own private space program. So, how do you get back, and what's the payoff?"
David looked puzzled. "I thought you'd see that by now, sir. We kick the asteroid out of the belt, and guide it into an Earth orbit. The payoff for you is access to millions of tons of minerals that don't have to be transported out of the Earth's gravity field. By the time we get back in three years or so, we'll already have tunneled out a space station, with the remains of the comet to provide oxy and hydrogen. While we're gone, you set up an orbital factory to refine the purest minerals in the universe. For mankind," he continued, "we get not just a few tin cans assembled into a makeshift space station, but a real, usable, kilometer-sized station in space. One we can use to really develop space colonies. After all, once out of Earth's gravity well, you're halfway to anywhere!"
Frank looked thoughtful. "I still see some problems. You can't transport supplies for three years in a shuttle. For that matter, how do you keep a crew living in a tin can for three years sane?"
David shrugged. "Certainly there are problems. I'm an aeronautical engineer by training, and I can probably see more of them than you can. As for supplies, send up unmanned cargo capsules to rendezvous with the comet and/or the asteroid. We'll be in constant communication, although light-speed lag will make it one way; but you will always know our orbital data, and where to shoot your cargo capsules." He shrugged. "For the crews, you may be able to swap them, once the comet emerges from behind the sun. Send up another shuttle with a fresh crew. Hell, I don't know, sir. There are literally millions of details that would have to be worked out." He jumped to his feet and began pacing. "What I do know is that this is a possible way to jump start man's future, and it can be done with today's technology!'
Frank's frown eased, and a slow smile appeared. "I suppose you've talked to NASA about this."
David looked shocked. "Good lord, no, sir. They're the people that took the most exciting moment in mankind's history, the moon landing, and managed to make it boring! Maybe back in the '60's NASA was full of visionary young people, but nowadays all that's left are bureaucrats looking for bigger budgets and engineers looking for raises."
Frank's smile widened and he jerked a nod, as though making up his mind. "All right, David, I'll take a look at it. I'll have to have some research done, and do some myself. Meanwhile, you'd better get back to duty. But you had better understand this: if we do this, we will be cordially hated by NASA and the U.S. government. For one thing, I can foresee the necessity of sending a nuclear reactor on this mission, and if so, Washington will be after both our scalps – mostly mine. We can't do this from the states, and don't forget, after a twenty-year retirement, you're technically a reservist, which gives them a handle on you. I also wouldn't be surprised if they didn't find a way to use your pension to bring you around. You'd better give that some thought. For now, just go on to D.C. and keep your head down."
Paul Goodman, PhD was Frank's advisor on scientific and specifically space science issues. He had two doctorates, one in physics, and one in aeronautical engineering. Frank paid him a retainer large enough to let him concentrate on his own researches, but the value of his advice easily justified the admittedly high cost.
When his phone rang at 3AM, Paul didn't have to wonder who was calling. "Hello, Frank. You must be in the Philippines again."
An embarrassed silence was followed by a curse. "I'm sorry, Paul. I keep forgetting the time difference. Did I wake you?"
Paul chuckled. "It's 3AM here. What do you think?"
"Sorry," Frank repeated. "But I've got a research project for you. A man came to me with an idea today. It's pretty science-fictiony, but I want you to take a serious look into it and see if it could be possible with today's technology." He outlined David's idea.
"It's crazy!" was Paul's first reaction. "For one thing, even you couldn't afford to do it. NASA might be able to, but they wouldn't touch an idea like this with a twenty-meter pole!"
Frank's tone turned cold and serious. "I don't just want your first impression, Paul. I want you to research it. If it's not possible, I want to know why, and if it's just not practical, I'll want to know why not. If it is possible, I may have found the purpose in my life that's worth every cent I have. I may finally be able to do something to really benefit mankind, instead of just passing out money to unemployed scientists with a pet theory."